The American siren
by Lock Lokidottir
Summary: Molly's been having a bad day... until a certain Woman walks in and changes all that. A nice, one shot that will probably make you go 'aww'. Rate and review please!


Molly was busying herself around the morgue when Sherlock came in.

Creeping as silently as a cat, Sherlock was behind her when he decided to speak. Molly dropped the steel bowl full of…_ fluids_ and Sherlock quickly caught it.

'Show off.' She heard John mutter as Sherlock smiled- though it was more mocking than friendly- and Molly felt her cheeks darken.

'Uh, u-um…. Hi. I-I um-'

Pathetic! Molly, what are you _doing?_ Her brain was screaming warnings as Sherlock's piercing gaze made her feel less than an inch big. She was stuttering and stammering- Oh God, the dreaded stammer. She was teased for it at school- she couldn't get a sentence out without stammering and now she was doing it here, in front of Sherlock… Her crush.

This wasn't going to well.

_Ground?_ She asked inside her head. _Do me a favour and swallow me!_

She had tried many tactics to get rid of it- but all had failed. Molly tried her best to become her alter ego (which she had modelled on Sherlock, but don't tell him that, we don't want him to grow an even bigger head and become more insufferable)- the cool, aloof Molly who didn't really care if she was laughed or mocked because really, everyone else was incredibly dull, so why should she really give a damn?

Molly Hooper sighed, her normal self returning as her alter ego fled.

'Yes, Sherlock, what do you want?'

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, and legs turned to jelly. Molly drunk in the sight of the genius standing in front of her… he really looked like a fallen angel. Actually, scratch that, he looked like a_ god_.

He stood tall, bigger than Molly's petite 5'2 frame. His curly, unruly hair was the subject of many of Molly's best dreams, and Sherlock's pale skin and cheekbones…. Molly wanted to touch them, simply to see if they were warm, or cold, or whether they had the texture of marble or velvet….

Molly was snapped out of her daydream as Sherlock took a step towards her.

'Have you seen Irene Adler?'

Of course.

'She's about yay high, with an annoying American accent, green eyes, curly red hair and she is incredibly important. Have you seen her? I last saw he-'

Molly stopped listening. Sherlock's girlfriend, she must be.

Molly saw John glance at Sherlock. Her eyes flickered over to the doctor and she silently thanked him. He silenced the man that was unknowingly stabbing Molly's heart over and over just by mentioning this Adler woman…

'Sherlock, I told you, she won't be here. She hasn't.'

Sherlock's sentence died.

'Oh…. Stupid, _stupid!_'

With a flurry of coat, Sherlock was running down Bart's corridor leaving an upset Molly and exasperated John in his wake.

The good doctor took a step towards Molly, his cane lightly tapping the floor as he went.

'He doesn't mean to, you know.' Molly looked at the army doctor. He was wearing jeans and a striped jumper today. To stop herself from crying right now- it could wait until bedtime- she started studying the doctor. He had smile lines, and crowfeet, but right now his thin mouth was set in a stern but kind line and his blue eyes were glittering with concern. His tanned hand gripped the top of his cane and he was almost gazing at Molly with guilt.

'Too good to be true,' said Molly, turning and splashing the fluids down the sink and banging the steel bowl on the side with a little bit more force than necessary. 'So, this woman is his girlfriend then?'

The doctor looked confused, then he started to laugh.

'No, Molly, Irene-'

Sherlock popped his head round the door, his features creased into a frown.

'Come ON John, I haven't got all day!'

The doctor sighed and limped after him.

…

It was around midday that a woman burst in.

She had curly brown hair, which was elegantly tied up in a bun. She had a short, black dress with lace covering both arms, and her thick, full lips were a gorgeous rouge. She had piercing blue eyes, and angular cheekbones- a female Sherlock, really.

Molly froze.

'Yes?' She said coldly. She didn't mean to, per se, but Sherlock had pissed her off this morning. She sighed, put on a false smile and wiped her hands on her lab coat before shaking this womans hand. Molly was surprised when she was pulled into a hug.

'Hi! Uh, I'm Irene-' Molly could pick out bits of an American accent, but she was a very good actress- it was virtually undetectable underneath the British one that she was putting on.

'-Adler. I know.'

Irenes mouth dropped open.

'How did you _know?_' the Brit accent was dropped and a high pitched, American one took it's place. 'I mean, I didn't think it was _obvious!__'_

'Sherlock mentioned you- he's looking for you, you know. Better find him.'

Irene laughed and sat on the side- Molly felt her eye twitch slightly_. Who did this Yank think she was?_

Molly banged around for a few minutes, very aware that the American was watching her, before slamming the long suffering bowl down on the side and turning.

'So, you and Sherlock, you two are a thing?'

Irene laughed. Laughed! Molly could feel her anger start to boil.

'No, I'm not with Sherlock. Let's say I go in the opposite direction.'

Molly was lost, and sure looked it. Irene gazed up at her, looking through her lashes; she looked like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

'I'm a lesbian. Not interested.'

Molly's cheeks darkened for the second time that day. She hadn't expected someone to be that forward, especially since you'd been giving them the cold shoulder from the moment they'd walked in.

And to tell the truth, seeing as everyone is being so forward today, Molly was a bit like that too. She'd pushed it away- her strictly religious family would've disowned her- and locked it away. But hearing that sentence from someone who was admittedly_ that_ damn _sexy _was enough to faze Sherlock from her mind.

So basically, Molly was a bi. Interesting.

'Oh. I see.'

'Not jealous, are you? Of me and him, I mean?'

Her cheeks went even darker as Irene once again gazed at her through her incredibly long lashed. Damn woman, stop doing that!

She turned and gazed at the woman who was grinning broadly on the side.

'You are! No, no, love, me and Sherlock aren't lovers- we are more like enemies!'

They both started to laugh- Irene first, and Molly second.

There was a short pause where Molly was trying to figure out her feelings- did she hate or like this woman?- and Irene was thinking… did she like this woman?

'Okay. Brilliant, thanks. Uh, he's looking for you- better not keep him waiting, he'll be pissed otherwise.'

Irene made a face, and sauntered- really, there was no other word for it- over to Molly. In super. Slow. Motion. Either that or Molly was having a stroke. That was it- Molly's tongue was practically lolling out, like a teenage boy. That was it.

'Listen, Irene, if you're not busy, would you like a coffee tonight?'

The words were out before Molly could stop them. However, Irene's glossy cupid bow's lips were forming into a smile.

'I'd love to.'

'Brilliant-' Molly wanted to dance around the lab, but she was worried her clumsiness would ensure that she knocked a tray of scalpels over, so she just grinned. 'I get off at six. The coffee place around the corner?'

'I'd love to,' purred Irene as Molly blushed a deeper red. 'But can I ask one thing?'

'Sure,' Molly gasped as the dark haired siren entwined her arms around her waist. 'Anything.'

'I'm paying.'


End file.
